Hogwarts: A Love Story
by Tandy
Summary: Short story. Total fluff piece with a sprinkling of smut thrown in for the heck of it. “Granger… Hermione, I find you unbelievably attractive. Care to give me a shot?” There was something seriously wrong with this scenario, unnatural even.


_Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me… blah… blah… _

_Warning: Unbeta'd read at your own risk! _

**A Startling New Point of View **

Hermione sighed nostalgically and felt herself tearing up at the sight of the Hogwarts library. It had been ten years since she'd been in this room, inhaling the wonderful scent of old books and leather. Through the years, Hermione had visited many libraries, but none, no matter their grandeur or reputation could equal the one in Hogwarts. Hermione had spent so much time in this library that the memories made in it where almost overwhelming.

She walked to a nearby shelf and ran her hand over the spines of the books, feeling a thrill as she did so. Nothing really had changed, it was as if time had stilled, leaving the library exactly as it had been when she'd been a student at Hogwarts. She almost expected Ron and Harry to dash through the doors and beg her to help them with their potions assignment.

Hermione laughed thinking about them and at their ability to always drag her along wherever they went. The Chudley Cannons were looking for new recruits and Harry had convinced McGonagall to host a tournament game to show off his young and talented students. Unfortunately for Harry, McGonagall decided it was a great opportunity for interschool cooperation. Durmstang and Beauxbatons were also participating hoping to show their mettle for the Chudley Cannons recruiters. It was even rumored that some of the players would be present. Needless to say, the event had turned into a media frenzy. Poor Harry was going out of his mind supervising the whole thing.

She'd been hesitant to come to the Quidditch tournament as she had never been too fond of the sport, but Ron and Harry had insisted. Besides, it was about time she took her vacation time. Being department head of Muggle affairs was hard work. The tournament would last four days and while Hermione couldn't fake enthusiasm at the prospect of spending her time watching people try to bludgeon each other, the mere fact of being able to visit Hogwarts, especially the library, again more than made up for any discomforts she might suffer during her stay.

The smile that had been blooming on her face vanished as she spotted a book underneath a table. It seemed that someone not only had dropped it and not bothered to pick it up, but the poor book had also suffered the indignity of being kicked to the middle of a large table that displayed the most current books available. The book looked forlorn and miserable, it was opened halfway, its pages facing the dusty floor it the most unflattering of ways.

'Help me!' It said to Hermione. 'Help me!' Or it would have, Hermione thought, if it had the ability to speak.

Never one to abandon a textbook in distress Hermione quickly made her way to the table. She bent down and reached for the book, unfortunately she could only graze its cover with her fingertips. She stretched further, her fingers almost wrapping about the book when she'd noticed a presence behind her.

That's when it hit her; she was on all fours with her bum stuck in the air; which was about the same time the presence behind her let out a drawn out wolf-whistle.

"If I had this kind incentive when I was in school, I would have never left this room."

The comment, and the voice that spoke it, startled her so much that in her haste to remove herself from her embarrassing position on the floor she whacked her head on the table.

"Easy, girl."

Hermione felt hands go around her waist; gently they started helping her out. That is until her bushy hair came out from underneath the table. The hands let go instantaneously.

"Granger," Draco stated in shock. She stood up, her back still to him, but he didn't need to see her face to recognize to whom that bushy head of hair belonged to. He slapped a hand to his face, backed away a whole five feet from her before coming to a halt against a shelf. He slammed into it so hard that a few books rained down on him, one barely missing his foot. "Fuck." He'd been checking out Granger's ass!

Hermione had turned around just in time to see his little display. She smoothed her robes and waited for Malfoy to compose himself. He remained leaning on the shelf, books scattered around his feet and his hand firmly attached to his face. He spread his fingers wider, took a peek at Hermione and arching her brow, and repeated "fuck!" again while covering his eyes once more.

"I had no idea I had this type of effect on you."

Draco groaned. Couldn't she understand that this was just as humiliating for him as it was for her? Merlin, but he'd been ogling her tight little… aw fuck. "What were you doing in such... an interesting position?" He asked, straightening up with as much dignity as he had left. Which wasn't much.

"I was picking up a book." Hermione said defensively. What did he think that she had assumed the position and was waiting for a nice bloke to come and take a turn?

"Which book?" He asked, looking around her, noticing absolutely _no _book lying around.

"That one!" Hermione pointed underneath the table.

Draco stared at her incredulously. With a swish of his wand he had all the books, including the one Hermione had been saving in their proper places. "Really, Granger," he reprimanded. "This situation could have been avoided if you've used your head, which you're always bragging about."

"Oh, it's my fault that you have a lascivious and lewd mind?"

"Please, any woman looking as… inviting as you did is just begging for an inappropriate comment."

"You sexist pig, I'll have you know-"

"Spare me the feminist dribble. I wasn't wasting any lustful thoughts on you."

"I beg to differ. It was my bum you seemed to be admiring."

"I thought it was someone else's bum," that sounded stupid. But as always he pretended he said exactly what he meant to say. "That is, I was expecting to see the lovely Rose emerged from the table. I should have guessed it wasn't her, when you ungracefully knocked yourself against the table."

Oh, yes, lovely Ms. Rose Mavourneen, pretty as a fresh picked flower but dumb as a rock. The girl wasn't even twenty yet. Just like Malfoy to prey on the weak. Ms. Mavoruneen was an apprentice to Madame Pince, which explained Malfoy's presence at the library. But to have confused Hermione with the voluptuous girl was quite leap.

"Sure, whatever." Hermione rolled her eyes. "If that helps you deal with the fact that you were checking a mudblood out. I hope I haven't left you permanently scarred."

Draco was about to say something when the rightful owner of his lustful thoughts latched onto his arms. "Draco, where have you been? You promised to find me ages ago!" The girl simpered, looking adoringly into Draco's eyes.

"I was sidetracked, darling." Draco said, placing his arm around her and smiling.

Hermione wanted to gag.

"As always, it's been unpleasant," she said to Malfoy. "I'll see you later Ms. Mavourneen."

"Bye, Hermentia!"

She cringed at the butchering of her name but stiffened further when he heard Draco's sharp bark of laughter.

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**Like A Bludger to the Head **

The previous day had been a long and strange. Not only had Draco found Hermione's backside very leer-worthy but had actually refused a beautiful witch's invitation to join her in bed. He didn't know what was more puzzling, Granger's firm butt in the air, or his total lack of desire for the naughty librarian.

After three hours of flying over Hogwarts to clear his head, he'd had to say that finding Granger attractive in any way was certainly the most troubling aspect of the past day. The most troubling in his life perhaps. This was Hermione Granger's ass we were talking about here! It was… it was… there were no words to describe how odd it was to admit he'd enjoyed the view a little too much.

After the war, Hermione had started working for the Ministry and he'd busied himself with restoring the family estate. Occasionally their paths crossed, when they did they got along perfectly fine; which was to say they avoided each other like the plague. It had never taken him much effort to ignore her. But for some reason he was having a rather _hard _time of it now. Draco could just not get the image of her perfectly rounded…

Aw, fuck.

Draco had never limited himself by having types. He liked _all_ women. However, he did have his preferences. Bossy, loudmouthed, conceited witches just didn't make the cut, no matter how appetizing their ass looked. So it really didn't make any sense to be obsessing about Granger. It was absurd.

He had come to Hogwarts to enjoy a bit of quidditch and forget about work for a few days and relax. Draco didn't need the image of Granger pestering him endlessly. He shook his head and head turned back to his dormitory, willing the image of Granger's bum, alongside other interesting places of her anatomy, out of his mind. At the moment the only foreseeable solution was an amnesia inducing potion.

Yeah, he had it that bad.

Crossing the lake he saw a silhouette rising up to the surface. The figure, from what he could tell from above, was female and wearing a blue one-piece bathing suit along with a swim cap. He steered his broom lower, wondering who could be swimming at such an early hour. The woman started cutting smoothly through the water, doing laps across the lake. Mesmerized, he observed the woman's graceful strokes.

He made a mental note to thank McGonagall for cleaning up the lake and making it safe for humans to swim in. Keeping the lake filled with Merpeople and deadly creatures was further proof that Dumbledore had been completely nuts. But he pushed any Dumbledore thoughts away because they usually led to him feeling guilty. It had been harder that he'd thought just coming back to Hogwarts. He needed to focus on the present; which was dropping down to say 'hi' to the luscious creature beckoning him from the water.

The woman swam ashore, and Draco zoomed in on her trim physique. Her figure wasn't voluptuous but it was nicely curved, with a tiny waist and the perkiest breasts he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. She was also longed limbed and tanned with… _brown bushy hair, _ Draco noticed with dismay when she removed her cap. He almost fell of his broom at the discovery but managed to land a few yards away from her with some semblance of control.

"Malfoy! What are you doing?"

She looked even better from up close. Her bushy hair completely at odds with the figure she presented; athletic and highly disciplined. "Aren't you cold?" he asked out of lack of anything else to say. Her suit had letters strewn across her chest; EAGLES H20 POLO.

Hermione stared at him oddly. "No. I used my head, the one I always brag about, and used a warming charm."

"What is H20 Polo?"

"It's a water sport." Hermione told him. Noticing the puzzled looked on Malfoy's face Hermione explained further. "It's a muggle thing."

Draco scowled at her but it was erased as soon as Hermione grabbed a towel and started drying herself. Forget Crucio, _this_ was torture. It bothered him so much that he decided to take matters in his own hands. He took his wand out and choked out a drying charm before he did something really naughty that would earn him a black eye. Draco remembered from his days at Hogwarts what a downright vicious bitch Granger could be.

"What the hell was that?" Hermione asked.

"I thought I needed to teach you another lesson on how to use your head."

Hermione flipped him off and started walking toward the castle without even bothering to cover herself. And there it was again, her perfect bum in all its glory. Compelled, he walked behind her, enjoying the view.

"You're not going to just walk in there like that are you?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, come on, your suite is… indecent."

Hermione turned, placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "What would you know about decency, you shallow prat."

For a minute there Draco thought she was actually going to smack him. "It's inappropriate for department heads to dress like this," he said lamely, recognizing the fact that he had always pictured Granger that way, as a conservative ministry official or a repressed school teacher. Whenever he heard something about her, he'd always imagined her with mousy robes and a pinched expression similar of that of McGonagall's.

"I didn't know you had such delicate sensibilities. However, if my body bothers you so much, then I suggest you stop following me."

He was going to do just that before he lost what was left of his sanity, when he noticed his broom wasn't at hand. "Fuck," he exclaimed realizing that he'd left it by the side of the lake.

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PIGEONHOLED

When she had been a student, Hermione had a favorite tree in which she loved to do homework, study and read. Now, ten years later, Hermione rested underneath its shade once more, a book clasped to her chest, her eyes closed and her breathing even. Only the distant sounds from the quidditch pitch could be heard, and even that barely bothered the peace that she had surrounded herself with. After three days of Quidditch, Hermione had decided enough was enough. She had told her boys she was feeling indisposed and to go ahead without her for the second match of the day.

Thankfully there was only one day remaining. She'd enjoyed her vacation, being able to sleep in and spend the afternoons lazing away or even at the quidditch pitch where the crowd had been so infectious that she had found herself cheering and cursing along with them. However, to be completely honest Hermione was ready to go back to work. She could just imagine the pile of work that was no doubt waiting for her. But she had promised Harry and Ron that she would stay for the full four days. She wouldn't hear the end of it if she left early.

Hermione felt a warm puff of air grazing her lips. She shifted and slowly and sluggishly opened her eyes. Brilliant silver orbs came into view. Hermione gasped and backed away, hitting her head on the trunk of her tree in the process.

A smile split his face and transformed it into something akin to handsomeness. "Sorry."

Judging from the brilliance of his eyes and the smile on his face he wasn't sorry at all. Hermione stared at him goggled eye, still in shock of having him so close and apparently breathing on her. Now that she thought about it, her lips felt kind of tingly.

No way, no fucking way. She had not fallen asleep and Malfoy had not kissed her. "Malfoy what the hell are you doing?"

"I was just looking at you," he told her, wearing a weird-ass look on his face.

"Er, yes, you've seen me before," Hermione explain as she would a small boy. This was getting more confusing by the second.

"No I haven't, not really."

Malfoy slid closer to Hermione still staring at her oddly. "What's going on, Malfoy. You're acting like a freak."

He smiled again at that. "Granger… Hermione, I find you unbelievably attractive. Care to give me a shot?"

WHAT?

There was something seriously wrong with this scenario, unnatural even. "Malfoy, I think you're under some type of spell, maybe a potion. We should go to the infirmary."

It was the only possible explanation for his strange behavior the past two days. Someone was obviously playing a mean-spirited joke on him. When whatever magic was used to… confuse him wore off she'd have a very pissed off Malfoy on her hands.

Malfoy laughed. "I guess I can't blame you for reacting this way." He grasped one of her curls and started playing with it. "I'm not under any spell or potion. Believe me, I've checked."

"Then check again!" Hermione snapped, nervous about Malfoy's proximity. He had managed to crawl so close he could feel his breath on her face again. Goosebumps rose on her skin, the hair on the back of her neck rising eerily, and her breathing became shallow and slow.

"Is it so hard to believe that I fancy you?" He asked, making their breaths mingle.

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps because I'm a dirty little mudblood!" Her voice was coming out shrill to her own ears and she wondered why Malfoy wasn't wincing and covering his ears.

"Hmm… I see that's still a sore spot for you."

Hermione didn't say anything but gave him a look that clearly said 'Well, duh!'

"It doesn't matter too me, Hermione. I am much more tolerant than I was during Hogwarts. You can even say that I've grown up."

"I don't buy it." Hermione pushed him away forcefully. "After knowing each other since first year of Hogwarts you suddenly develop an infatuation with me… it doesn't make any sense."

"But we don't know each other, Hermione," he told her, for the first time looking somewhat exasperated. "Remember when we saw each other last before coming here? It was four years ago at the appointment ceremony of the new Minister of Magic. We ran into each other at the bar and made small talk about the weather until the Weasly came to retrieve you. That's not knowing each other, we're not even acquaintances for fuck's sake. I want to get to _know_ you."

"What about Ms. Mavourneen?" Hermione asked softly, sounding bewildered and bit a curious.

"I lost interest when you pointed your delectable derriere my way."

"It was not purposely," Hermione informed him. "You lose interest rather quick, don't you?"

"It depends on the witch," he said nonchalantly.

"You're an asshole."

"I have my redeeming qualities, if you bothered to get to know me."

"I know you."

"No you don't."

He was Malfoy, a spoiled racist little boy that had escaped Azkaban by the skin of his opportunistic teeth. She knew enough. "Well I'm not interested I you."

He couldn't say his ego didn't suffer a blow from that, but he'd recovered, his ego was quite sturdy. "You would be if you let yourself be."

"Get the hint, Malfoy," Hermione told him, a bit breathless from having him so close.

"I finally have, after seventeen years I have." His eyes were boring into hers, making her shudder unexpectedly.

"There are hundreds of witches here to help you pass the time. Why are you focusing on me?"

"You intrigue me. Everything about you calls to me." He came closer again. "Don't you feel it too?" He asked and grazed her lips softly with his own.

"No," she croaked out, her lips once again tingling. "I didn't feel a thing."

"Liar," he said and leaned down for another kiss; this time delving deeper, stroking his tongue along the seam of her lips until she granted him access. With and endless supply of patience he explored her mouth, lazily he licked the roof of her mouth, gently he took her tongue into his mouth and suckled expertly…

"Still nothing?"

"No. Your reputation as a lover is highly overrated," She informed him gasping but with a definite mischievous glint in her eyes.

He chuckled lightly and dug in once more, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her close, so close she could feel his erection against her stomach. She moaned and pushed harder against him, delighting in his tortured moan. Malfoy abandoned her mouth to run kisses along her throat, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts as his hand stealthily sneaked under her shirt and bra to play with a straining nipple.

"One date," she groaned out as his mouth dropped lower on her chest. She pushed him away, gently this time, and stood on shaky legs as she stared down at him. Draco placed his hand on her calf and rubbed lightly upwards on her bare leg. Hermione had to stifle another moan.

"So you feel it too?" He asked staring up at her with kiss-swollen lips and a smug expression.

"No." _Yes._

Malfoy's arrogant demeanor barely twitched. Instead, he seemed to become more confident as he rested completely under her tree, folding his arms under his head and shooting her a look that would certainly have caused lesser women to come at the sight. "Really? Because the moaning and writhing says otherwise."

"I just haven't had sex in long time."

Malfoy laughed, "Whatever."

Hermione shook her head. "You git," she said with a tone reminiscent of their school days before gathering her things and walking away with wobbly knees and the uncomfortable sensation of unfulfilled desire.

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**Out of the Box **

Draco was now so attuned to her, that he had felt her presence as soon as she entered the great Hall. With her bushy hair though, she was likely to stand out anywhere, he thought with a fond smile. But she was lovely, he noticed as she approached him. How had it taking so long to see?

The day before had been an eye opener for Draco. It had seemed that everywhere he went Granger haunted him, looking pretty and fresh and completely different from the Granger he remembered. But the idea of her had repelled him. This was Hermione Granger, goody-two shoes and stuck-up Gryffindor.

It had been a shock to realize that he'd been defining her in terms of their experience at Hogwarts. He had labeled her and packed her away never bothering to take another glance at her. What did he really know about her now or even then? He remembered harsh words and deadly glares, he remembered a strong slap and most of all he remembered a high intellect he had used against Dumbledore.

But that hadn't help matters any.

So he'd gone on a walk, thinking that Granger was at the quidditch pitch with her friends. Only she hadn't been. She had been dozing under a tree, and he with his cursed luck had walked, against all odds, right to where she was. He had intended to walk pass by her and let her be, but that hadn't worked out too well either.

She had looked so tempting with her hair scattered around her, a book resting on her chest, the muggle shorts she was wearing showcasing her smooth tanned legs, her pink lips parted. It had been too much for him to resist and so he'd kissed her, feeling a jolt of electricity as he did so. It was then that he understood that Hermione Granger was to be for him.

"Can I accompany you, Hermione?" He asked her when she looked as she was going to bypass him with nary a word. He tucked her arm into his elbow and lead her out of the Great Hall.

"I'm going to see Hagrid," she warned him, curious to see how he would act. She was wagering he'd let go of her arm immediately and excuse himself politely. He'd been making faces at Hagrid since before he'd set foot at Hogwarts.

"Ah, yes, the groundskeeper," he said managing to veil his contempt and leading her out of the castle. "I think I remember the way to his… home."

Hermione smiled at his tone, noticing the almost imperceptible wrinkle of his nose. "I'll only be a few minutes. You can wait outside if you like."

"No, I would like a chance to say hello to my former professor."

"You're so full of shit."

"It's called being courteous and besides," he said looking down at her arrogantly, "you like me anyway."

"I'm still undecided."

"No, you're not."

It was insane that before the prior day, Malfoy had barely registered in her radar and now all she could think was having his mouth and tongue again. She kept recalling things about him that hadn't mattered one whit to her before. Like his lean and tall body, the sexy timbre of his voice, his penetrating silver gaze, and the way he tilted his head slightly when he smiled, or how skillful his large hands were, and how talented his tongue was.

Perhaps she was the one that had been slipped a potion

She supposed she should treat this whole thing with more trepidation. It was Malfoy, after all, but for some reason she wasn't the slightest bit worried. The worst that could happen was that Malfoy would loose interest after a while, but not before he gifted her with some more of his drugging kisses. At the very least it was bound to be interesting.

Walking along with him through the school grounds was an experience by itself. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering about so much that it was a wonder they didn't come out her ears. She was nervous and she was enjoying the emotion quite thoroughly. Hermione couldn't remember the last time a man had made her nervous, so much that she felt ticklish and tingly from just thinking about him.

Hermione spotted Hagrid tending to his garden outside his hut; fang was snoring a few feet away.

"Behave yourself."

Draco gave her a quizzical look. "Who do you take me for?"

"Hermione!" The half-giant exclaimed when he noticed her. His happy expression dulled somewhat when his gaze landed on Malfoy's face. "Mr. Malfoy."

"Good morning, Hagrid," he said pleasantly.

And the he did something so unexpected that Hermione's jaw almost hit the floor. He walked over to Fang and started petting him. The huge dog rolled on his back and sighed, allowing Malfoy to scratch his stomach.

"You remember me don't you?" Malfoy asked, smiling at the dog's blissfully expression.

Hagrid laughed heartily, "Boy use ter sneak Fang scraps."

Nothing could have surprised her more than what Hagrid had just revealed. The image of Malfoy, the bouncing ferret, feeding gentle Fang was incongruous with everything she had known about him. Hermione had always thought Malfoy was the type to torture poor defenseless animals not feed them on the sly. Dobby had said some horrid things about him…

Malfoy had been right, they didn't know each other.

A weight that she didn't know she had been carrying since the day before lifted off her shoulders. She admitted fully that she was more than attracted to Malfoy, that it wasn't because she hadn't gotten any in a long time that had gotten her hot and bothered for him. She truly liked him and it was okay because the boy she remembered was only a facet of a much more complex picture.

"Hagrid, here are the instructions of how to feed a baby sphinx," Hermione said, taking out a scroll from her pockets and handing it to him.

"Oh, thank you, snuffles has bin so contrary-"

"I think I'm better off not knowing, Hagrid."

Hagrid smiled sheepishly at her… and then his hut starting shaking. "Oopsie,Gotta go!" he yelled out as he ran at full speed into his hut. Fang whimpered, looked pleadingly at Malfoy and dashed away behind some bushes.

"What got into them?" Malfoy asked, staring after Fang.

Hermione went to him and took his hand and lead him away from Hagrig's hut. "So, you and Fang are close?"

"Not really."

"You used to bring him scraps."

"What? No. Never scraps… I fed that mangy mutt the best that Hogwarts had to offer. How do you know?"

"Hagrid just told me."

"He knew?" And there he'd thought he'd been so cool skulking at night to feed the damn dog.

"Why did you do it?"

Malfoy flushed. "In first year, you, Potter, Longbottom, and I got detention..."

"You ran away," Hermione remembered, "with Fang."

"We bonded." He'd been so fucking scared he'd almost pissed his pants. Fang had stayed with him, nuzzling against him and licking consolingly at his face as they waited for someone to get them. He'd been covered in dog slobber and hadn't cared; feeling safer in the company of the mutt than with the purebred guard dogs that resided in Malfoy Manor.

Hermione pulled him down by the lapels of his robes and planted a deep kiss to his surprised face. "I like you."

**Leaps and Bounds**

"What is H20?" Malfoy asked with Hermione on his lap, sitting on the comfortable couch of her Hogwarts room.

"It means water," Hermione informed him. "I used to be in a water polo team during the summers. The bathing suit you saw me in was my old uniform. Nostalgia has kept me throwing it away hundreds of times and magic has kept the suit in mint condition."

"A sport that has swim suits as their uniform…tell me more."

"I was also in the swim team; we had a two-piece for that."

"I hope you'll model it for me."

"If you're a good boy," Hermione leaned toward him and gave him a soft kiss.

They had ended up spending the day together. It was definitely one of the best days Hermione remembered having. They had a picnic by the lakeside, where they retold their craziest school anecdotes. Hermione learned that quidditch was more enjoyable when being held by Malfoy and sneaking occasional kisses in between boring plays. They held hands throughout the day, something that Hermione found incredibly sweet. She felt like she was at Hogwarts again, and Victor had asked her to the Yule Ball, only a hundred times better.

Ron and Harry had been apprehensive but had not said anything when Hermione had shown up with Malfoy for the quidditch matches. Her boys and Malfoy were polite to each other but distant and cool. She knew that Ron and especially Harry must being dying to ask her what was going on but had controlled their impulses to do so. Hermione was once again reminded of how lucky she was to have such good friends. Everyone had predicted that the trio would break up after Hogwarts; that they would take different paths and forget about each other. But their friendship had proven true, and even though they had chosen different paths they were closer as adults that they had ever been as kids.

In the evening Malfoy and Hermione retired to Hermione's room for tea and to continue chatting and learning about each other. Now it was almost two o'clock and Malfoy was showing no sings of wanting to leave anytime soon. Not that Hermione wanted him to leave either, but it was freaking her out how not freaked out she was at the whole situation. Things have fallen into place so smoothly that-

"Stop overanalyzing things." He kissed her. "And let me stay the night." He kissed her again, this time lingering, nibbling on her lips and neck.

"That's not a good idea," Hermione told him, searching for his mouth again.

"Hmm, I think it's a great idea," Draco said, pushing Hermione down with kisses and caresses until she was on her back.

"You just want to get into my knickers."

"That I do," He said running his hand up her thigh. "I want you, Hermione."

Hermione groaned, her blood boiling at his intimate touch. "I want you, too. But this is all happening too quickly," she got up from underneath him and stood up. If he thought that she was going to put out even before their very first date he was way wrong. Now, if he made a fuss about it, there would definitely be no first date, now matter how much she had enjoyed the day with him.

Still on the couch, Draco sighed and tried to even his breathing. Draco usually had more control than this. He felt like a randy teenager. He never thought he'd want somebody so badly. He could cry from the frustration he felt. But he wanted to do this right, even if it entailed taking matters into his own hands.

"You're right. I apologize for my behavior. I want you to know that I want more than just to get into your knickers," he said and rose.

He looked sheepish, like a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Hermione almost expected him to start shuffling his feet. She would have figured him to be a whiner, to start to bitch about what a tease she was. Or worst that he thought of himself as a god in bed, and tried to manipulative her into having sex with him.

But he had proven her wrong yet again.

"I'd like to see you again before we leave Hogwarts. Perhaps we could go to- What are you doing?"

Hermione was bending down and unlacing her sneakers, she kicked them off and started undoing the fly of her muggle jeans. "I'm undressing."

By the time Draco gathered his wits, Hermione was down to her panties and bra. He gulped loudly, "Don't be cruel, Hermione, don't tease. I'm about to loose it."

"Go ahead," Hermione said, climbing atop the bed, and giving Malfoy, what she hoped was her best come hither look. "Yesterday and today have been so crazy. It feels like my head is still spinning. The breakneck speed we have set seems to be working well for us… and I'm about ready to loose it as well."

"And you haven't had sex in a long time."

"That too," Hermione told him smiling, "but I want you to know that I want more than just your body."

Draco chuckled, "How long has it been?"

"Almost two years."

"This is going to be fun," he said smirking.

He joined her in bed and started undressing. There was no fumbling or awkwardness associated with first times. There was only them, wanting each other so much the room seemed saturated with their desire. Soon they were both completely naked with their limbs entwined and their breathing harsh and loud.

Softly Draco peppered kisses along her collarbone, torturously traveling down one centimeter at a time. Finally he reached her nipple and took it in his mouth, sucking gently, loving the way she trashed about, arching her back, offering her small breasts to his mouth. She was perfect, every freckle, every curve, every single wild curl of her hair, every part of her had been perfectly shaped for him.

Slowly he made his way to her other nipple, leaving it peaked and glistening with his saliva. Just as slowly he made his way lower, swirling his tongue around her belly button, which was cheerfully decorated with a ruby red ring. He chuckled against her stomach, his warm breath making her squirm. Before this week he would never have pictured her to be a fan of body art, however she'd surprised him this morning by not only confessing she had her navel pierced, but also had a fairy named tinkerbell tattooed on her left shoulder blade. He intended to get acquainted with that fairy soon enough. But for now he had more important things attend to.

His hand cupped her mons as he kissed her lower abdomen, he opened her slowly, moaning at the feel of moisture on his fingers. He played with her, making her gasp and moan and curse at him. He let her impatient hands, which were buried in his hair, lead him down to where she ached the most.

Languidly, he licked at her. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this. To taste you."

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows, wanting to see Malfoy between her thighs, pleasuring her. "I can guess it has been no more than two days," she managed to choke out.

"Four days to be exact," he continued his lazy strokes, driving Hermione to the brink of madness. "But it feels longer. It feels like I've been waiting an eternity to love you."

He suckled her, his talented mouth and tongue causing her hips to arch, her mouth to sputter groans and half words that made sense only to her and Draco. And then his long fingers entered her, his mouth latching confidently on the right spot and she came long and hard with Draco holding her hips to keep her still and drinking his fill. Exhausted she fell back on the bed.

With her toes still curled, with her body still deliciously tingling, she felt him positing himself at her entrance. Hermione was shaking and still too sensitive but the need to have him inside her overruled all her senses. She pushed against him, drawing a loud grunt from him. But still he teased her, running his length along her folds, entering only the head of his cock and then retreating to play with her clit.

He was shaking as well, his hands unsteady, his forehead shiny with sweat, the need to pound into her almost too great to control. The need to have her remember this night, to have her become wet at the thought of what he did to her, to erase any ormer lovers from her mind was even greater. He obliged her when Hermione clutched desperately at his buttocks, urging him to fill her. But he did so slowly, torturing both, as he entered her inch by slow inch, feeling her muscles stretch and wrap deliciously tight around him.

The feel of him, hard and thick inside her, filling her to the brim, was an excruciating pleasure. She circled her hips trying to induce movement when he only remained sheathed inside her. Draco dropped to his elbows, his body trapping Hermione, preventing her from any further movement. He kissed her, his mouth tangy with the taste of her juices, his hips still immobile, his cock throbbing inside her.

"Draco, Draco," she whispered brokenly, trying uselessly to create friction. Her whole body felt on fire, and she was at the verge of tears from so much wanting.

"You feel amazing, love," he said, tracing the shell of her ear. "Like you were made for me."

As slowly as he entered her he pulled out. Hermione mewled at the sensations that coursed through her body. Draco pushed her knees to her ribs and continued his slow thrusting, grunting at the feel of being deeper within her. Hermione's hands now grasped his shoulders, leaving half-moon indentions on his flawless skin.

Subtly he changed the angle and found a spot that made her scream. Hermione shattered, her orgasm rolling over her like a thick wave, obscuring her vision and turning her brain into mush. The feel of her tightening around him even more, milking him, triggered his own climax. He spilled inside her, gyrating his hips to prolong their orgasms.

Spent and sated they cuddled contently in their afterglow. Playfully they nipped and kissed, hands roving tenderly, bodies meshed as closely as possible.

"I love you."

Hermione froze, her body becoming as taut as bow. "I assure you, declarations of love are unnecessary at this point."

"They might as well be, but nonetheless they are true." He pulled back, making sure he had her full attention. "I'm in love with you, Hermione."

"That's impossible," she gave a nervous laugh. "It's insane, really."

"And what part of this week hasn't?" He drew soothing circles at her back, coaxing her to relax against him once more. "I'll make you love me, Hermione, and before the year is done you'll be my wife."

She should be running scared, instead she only felt a tremendous warmth blossoming inside her. It was too fast, too soon, too crazy, but she didn't care. At the risk of sounding cliché, it just felt right, like they were meant to be. He had made her body hum in pleasure like no one else had, he showed her a part of himself that she never knew existed. She had never been made love to so sweetly and thoroughly, like she was the most precious being in his life.

"I'll make you fall in love with me," he promised, his hand cradling her cheek. 

Hermione smiled at him and kissed his chest. She didn't think he had much work to do as she already felt like she was plummeting down at terminal velocity. Although he had another thing coming if he expected her to take his last name.

**The End **

Epilogue

They lived happily ever after with only an occasional fight in between.

_Please drop a review and tell me what you think. I need feedback! _


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